Someday You Will Be Loved
by kneazleFTW
Summary: DG. Draco Malfoy considers the enigma that is love: past, present, and future. As he does so, the youngest Weasley inevitably comes to mind... ONESHOT.


**Author's Note: **Urgh! I'm so sorry- I know you're all waiting for other updates to my stories and such, but, as an early Christmas gift, I got a Death Cab for Cutie CD, and I heard this song, and I totally thought "FANFICTION". This is only going to be a oneshot, please, PLEASE don't ask me to continue it, because I won't. This song is pretty much perfect for a Draco/Ginny situation, and this is NOT meant to be angsty- it's supposed to be a story, from Draco's point of view, on love and Ginevra. It's a sad-ish song, but it makes a lot of sense if you read the words or, even better, listen to it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, but that's it. 'Someday You Will Be Loved' is DCfC's, and Harry Potter stuff is J.K. Rowlings. :P

**Warnings:** Just a One-Shot. Songfics are love. They're not exactly together at the end- but it's nice. Uhm, it lightly implies that Ginny's not a virgin. But it doesn't really talk much of that. Language? Maybe. Uhm... Yeah. Typos are inevitable.

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_**I once knew a girl  
In the years of my youth,  
With eyes like the summer-  
All beauty and truth.**_

The first morning I entered my new flat, I was exhausted. My eyes looked huge against my gaunt face, and the whites of my eyes were undoubtably tinted red due to the amount of alcohol I had taken in the night before. It was barely midday, and yet, I longed only for bed. I wanted nothing more than thick, feather-filled downs and pillows. Those things would appease me for a few hours, I knew.

But I also knew, come tomorrow, I would be longing for something that I could never recreate. I would be longing to reach out and touch porcelain skin and run my hands through a mane of fire. I would have rather sat in a muggle store for hours, watching _her _try on this and that, not sure which to buy and inevitably buying nothing than to have laid in any bed- even the finest materials would do nothing to soothe me.

I could not do that, I reminded myself several times. For she was washed from my life. I tried to ask myself what state of living the younger girl would be in once she woke up to my note, but the feeling it shot to my gut caused me to shake the idea away. She would be livid, I knew- and hurt. Hurt so much, I supposed, that she would cry for a long while. She thought- no, she had convinced herself to think- that what we had was love.

I knew better than that.

We had infatuation, and we were incapable of achieving much more than that, for we were not meant to be. Centuries of disgust for the other's blood was a strong enough wall for our relationship, but I'd be damned if I wouldn't have tried to break it down with her. But we could not. Her brothers- Merlin's beard, her brothers would have murdered me on the spot, and her parents would have a conniption from it all. I figured my own fallen relatives would turn in their graves, horrified at the idea of it all.

So I did not love her. I could not allow myself. But there were days when she made it so hard. So unbelievably hard.

_**In the morning I fled;**_

_**Left a note and it read:**_

_**Someday you will be loved.**_

_"Draco?" she called, causing me to turn and look up with curious eyes._

_"Yes?" I answered, raising an eyebrow._

_"Are you... staying for the holidays?" she asked quietly, turning her head to hide her blush._

_She sat on the edge of my bed, her school robes still on, as she had come directly to the Heads' Dorms after classes. Her feet didn't even touch the ground, as her legs were far too short for such a thing. No, instead they hovered a few inches off the cold stone floor, and she kicked them back and forward slowly. Her red hair stood out in the silver, green, and black decor of my room, as did her eyes. They shimmered a hazel color, the green dominating the black this day._

_"Yes," I assured her, standing slowly so that she had to tilt her head back slightly see my eyes, even from a few feet away._

_I wondered what she saw when she looked into my eyes sometimes. Did she think I was the stoic I myself believed I was? Or did she see something else? It was always so damned hard to tell with her, as she rarely asked questions- she preferred to solve things on her own and reap the rewards herself. It was one of those things she did that came off as very Slytherin in my mind._

_"That's great," she said, releasing a breath. "I can actually send you a present and have you open it on Christmas!"_

_I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the girl's joy at such a simple thing- it was her way to be pleased at such trivial matters. I didn't care to remind myself that her joy was my own, as that would have wounded the pride substantially._

_"Well," I said, my voice husky even to my own ears. "I could always do with an early gift."_

_She mustn't have noticed that I had been moving towards the bed, as she jumped slightly in her skin when she realized how close I was before calming. She smirked up at me with my own look of mischeiviousness glinting in her eyes, and I moved to capture her lips with my own. She let out only a soft 'eep' as we fell backwards onto the bed, taunting the fates with our own forbidden relationship._

_**I cannot pretend that I felt any regret,**_

_**'Cause each broken heart will eventually mend.**_

_**As the blood runs red down the needle and thread-**_

_**Someday you will be loved.**_

Now I stood here, remembering her in every pore of my body, but knowing that I had done the right thing. Had I allowed her to carry on with such beliefs... What would have become of us in the end?

We would have our love, but nothing else- not even our lives.

While I cared deeply for her, survival was my ultimate motivator, not carefully worded phrases or midnight rendevous- no matter how much fun the latter had turned out being. I shook my head at the thought, but I didn't do much more. It was the truth, and there was no denying it. She had been fun- but that wasn't all she had been. She had been frustrating, empowering, and, while I hated to admit it even now, undeniably lovable.

Yet I wouldn't allow myself to be pulled under by her. Only depression and heartache and the like would come from it and, while I wasn't sure what I would become in a heartbroken mindset, I wasn't exactly jumping in line to see myself that way. Not even for her. As hard as it was for me to say that, the object of my affections had not changed me completely. Everything was based on first impressions.

Everything except her, I reminded myself. And that was why we would never be. We were total opposites- loud to quiet, angry to calm, benevolent to malevolent- everything was in balance, but we would not be happy that way forever. We couldn't be, for it was nature's way. I would forget the little details, and she would try to hate me for a long time before growing unmistakably indifferent to it all. We would cross paths again, yes, for life did enjoy throwing its many curveballs, but I knew that she would not be the same girl. She would be a woman who lost the things I loved about her- the naive way she looked out at the world, the pools of trust in her eyes, and the innocence she maintained dispite the many things she had done (namely with me). She would be different the next time I saw her.

It occurred to me that I was to be the reason for that change, and a bitter taste filled my mouth at the idea. It seemed rather jealous, really- as if I were saying that if I couldn't have it, no one ever would. But the idea left me- it would not be me who changed her, it would be reality and time, as they ate at her soul and left her in the cold. It was impossible to deny fate its misery, so, soon, the girl would be cleansed of all things wonderful about her and plunged into the bitter world of broken dreams and sorrow.

_**You'll be loved you'll be loved,**_

_**Like you never have known.**_

_**The memories of me will seem**_

_**More like bad dreams.**_

I found myself wondering... Would she come after me? Would she demand that I let her in and listen to what she had to say? I half-expected her to come and explain to me, like she had once before, that life was not like a love story- people didn't just bail because things got hard.

"Real people have come to the terms with the idea that life sucks and love sucks more by our age, Draco!" she had wailed once at me, banging on my door after I had told her once before that what we had started was over. "They don't just give up when they touch something they want and realize that it's a bit hard to hold onto it! They fight, Draco!" and then she lowered her voice, and the tiniest sound possible came from her mouth. "I'd fight for you."

It had been that voice that urged me to force the door open and drag her in, making love to her as many times as I could- trying to hold onto it all before I let it slip away.

It was funny, I mused now. I had held on so tight to it, only to force it out of my hands at the end of the day.

I wasn't so sure I wouldn't do the same thing if the firy redhead came once more, banging on my door and speaking with that tiny voice that woke a masculine beast deep inside of my soul.

But I told myself that she wasn't one to be hurt twice. I knew I had devestated her once with that stunt. The second time around, she was most likely beating herself up for coming after me the first time, let alone contemplating coming near me after the repeat of such an incident. Had she awakened yet, she would be staring at the note and letting her tears splatter and smear the still-wet ink. She would not move for many hours- maybe days. She would only try to understand the five words I had printed there, not knowing if I would return or if I was really gone. Only subconsciously would she accept the meaning behind the font, and, though it would take a while, I was certain that she would understand why.

She had to understand.

It was her nature to do so, and if she didn't... she could spend ages locked away, barely touching her food, only eating to stay alive until she solved her puzzle. She questioned only internally, asking no one for help and everyone for understanding. She asked for what she saught after, but not in the same way.

So, knowing this, I allowed myself to lean back against the wall and slide to the floor, looking about the empty flat with that damned tired spell hanging over me. I couldn't shake it, and I knew that I, too, would take a few days to adjust to not waking up with the faint smell of coffee wrapped in my arms. That was always her scent. Coffee. So simple, yet so variated. She never had the exact same scent, but I had always loved it- especially when waking up next to her.

_**Just a series of blurs,**_

_**Like I never occurred.**_

_**Someday you will be loved.**_

I groaned, knowing all too well the kind of mood I was going to be in for the rest of the day. Exhausted, I tugged open the bag I had brought with me, drawing a carefully wrapped (in the Daily Prophet) glass and a bottle of wine. A tradition, I had decided two years ago- since graduating from Hogwarts. When I moved, I came before everything else, and I toasted myself for good fortune. Slightly foolish, sure, but a damned good excuse to put some more alcohol in my body, if I dare say so myself.

Then it hit me.

Three years. I had graduated from Hogwarts three years ago, and I had begun my escapades with her four years past. How time had flied with her on my arm, even if it was only privately and away from all things reporter-esque. Like, for example, Granger. The headstrong, ingenious witch had, of all things, appeased herself by buying the Daily Prophet, putting that awful Skeeter woman on the gossip section, and taking over with an iron fist, investigating all things weird and out of the "norm". Needless to say, the witch (either Skeeter or Granger) would have found any relationship with a Malfoy as something beyond strange, and she would feel the need to investigate absolutely everything relating to the subject.

My fame as Skeeter's "Bachelor of the Year" two years ago had never died down, as I had "won" every year since. It made things harder for me, as I rarely got to see _her_ for fear of being seen by some reporter or, even worse, her brothers. A shiver shot down my spine at the idea. Her brothers were, needless to say, off their rockers. Every one of them. Well, the ones I had met. The others, in my mind, were far worse, and easily ten times stronger than myself.

"Damn," I sighed, knowing that I should stop thinking about her, as it couldn't be healthy for me.

Almost stimultaneously, a sheet of folded parchment shot under the door, my name written in immaculate manuscript- a stunning recreation of the own note I had left. I didn't notice my hand shaking as I pulled it to my, dragging it on the ground, never removing it until it came within an inch of my thigh. I raised it, staring with wide, gray eyes at my name. There was no way for world that she could have found me, was there?

I unfolded the parchment slowly, seeing only one line of words. I read them once, then again, laughing lightly at the truth as it hit me, for it was totally true.

I closed my eyes, picturing a small redhead turning the corner, a stunningly wise smile lightly gracing her face as she hurried down the staires, hazel eyes gone to a place of wonder and hope. Understanding surrounded her, and it was obvious to see in the daylight, even to those who had never seen her before. She was bravely in love, and, though she had lost something dear to her, she had the confidence of one who knew she would see it again.

I wondered if I would mirror such an expression when I went out to bring my things up. It would seem that when life threw its curveball this time, both Ginevra and I would be ready to swing.

_**You may feel alone when you're falling asleep, **_

_**And every time tears roll down your cheeks,**_

_**But I know that your heart belongs to someone you've yet to meet.**_

_**Someday you will be loved.**_

So I stood, ready to tackle the task of moving on- for now, anyway. I set the note on the counter closest to me, and glanced at the words one last time, smiling as they imprinted themselves on my mind.

_"I already have been."_

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**Author's Note:** Did that make sense? I hopes so. I enjoyed writing it, so yeah. :) Uhm... review?


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